I wanted to say, “Nobody you know,” and let her figure out if it was the answer to her first direct question or her second. Stylish, if the Ticker would have let it stand at that. “It’s all from before I came here. Tick-Tick, you know every stupid thing I’ve done since I got to Bordertown. Aren’t those enough? Can’t I leave the restback in the World?”

“Well played. You’ve been going to the movies again. What would Rico’s answer be?”

“She hasn’t asked about it.” I remembered then that she had, in the car at the stop sign. But she’d apologized for that. “I don’t think she cares about the details, as long as I help her find this guy.”

Tick-Tick shook her head and reached for my empty plate.

“No, you cooked. I’ll wash.”

“In your present state, do you really believe I’d give the good china over into your hands? No, you’d jump at a falling leaf, and there I’d be with fewer plates than saucers. Go home, you ninny. But by the holy trees, do remember that I’m here, and good for something.”

I stood up, feeling at once ashamed of myself and obscurely comforted. “I’ll remember. Thanks for breakfast, Tick-Tick. And if… if I told anybody about it, I’d tell you.”

“ If would make water run uphill.” She followed me to the door, out of the reflexes of the perfect host, I thought. But at the door she took hold of my shoulder, her thin fingers almost cool through my T-shirt, and turned me gently around. She spoke carefully in the language of the other side of the Border, putting all the endings on as a courtesy. “You do what you are, and you become what you do.” She looked away swiftly, then back at me. “Wear fortune as a coat, true friend.”

I wanted to reply in kind, but my accent is terrible. I looked her in the eye and nodded, and saw that she understood.

Downstairs, the artist was up and working on the tapestry. It was Luigi, Weegee for short, a halfie who lived on the first floor.

“Morning, Weegee. How’s Clarice?”

He grinned, showing the gap where one of his upper front teeth was missing. “Cool. We’re back together.”

“Congratulations.” Since Weegee and Clarice broke up about once every seventy-two hours, sometimes for as much as a whole day, I didn’t feel bad about not knowing they’d done it this time.